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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, February 08, 1913, 2, Image 20',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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"I'm not sinning in the eyes of
God,'' the woman cried desper
ately. "I've been a good woman
to Ed and he believes in me. I'm
glad I found him yes, even if I
did deceive him and made him
think you were dead. And now
you've come back. What do you
want? Have you just come here
to gloat over me? Better not let
Ed find you," she said defiantly.
"Well. I'll come to the point,
Jane," the man mumbled, some
what abashed by her outburst. "I
want money want it bad. I'm
going west on a freight train to
morrow and as this was on my
way I thought I'd look in on you.
How much have you got put
away? Come, no lies now. I
know you folks don't trust no
banks here since the Consolidated
"I haven't a penny," cried the
"Oh, come. Jane," said the
man reprovingly. "You was al
ways a good hand to save. Wish
I'd stuck to you," he added vic
iously. "I don't know as I won't
take you back yet. But come,
now. make it a hundred and I
won't never trouble you again."
"A hundred? You're dream
ing!" "Fifty then. Fifty down and
fifty to be sent to the postoffice at
Denver when I get there. Come,
now, ain't your home worth it,
"I haven't a penny in the house,
Jim," she said trying to assuage
him. "Maybe I can let you have
twenty-five tomorrow by holding
up the furniture man. You see,"
she faltered, "Ed won't be home
with his week's pay till morning."
"Well, if that's all you can let
me have I'll have to take it,"
mumbled the man. "But I'll take
the rest, or I'll hound you down,
mark my words. Twenty-five to
morrow and seventy-five inside M
of three months at Denver. Is it
a bargain, Jane?"
"Yes," she said helplessly.
"And you'll never bother me
"Never, so long as you play
fair with me."
. "Then I'll do it. I swear I'll
do it. I've got to keep my home
and Ed and " she hesitated. She
had been on the verge of mention
ing the child. Her home was her
all: without it she would again
fall back into those eddying cur
rents through which she had bat
tled to this little haven. It made
her think of the oily, treacherous
currents by the bridge.
"Where'H I meet you? I don't
want to show myself in town.
That fellow Jones I told you of,
my cell mate he's back here."
"Do you know the maple trees
near the first saloon?" she asked.
"Well there. At nine o'clock to
The man shook out the burning
ashes of his pipe. In the next
room the child, awakened by the
evil stench of the tobacco, awoke
and cried feebly. Iristantly the
man was alert.
"What's this, Jane?" he asked,
a smile playing maliciously about
his mouth. "Kid?. Yours?"
"Yes, mine. Mine and Ed's,"
she cried, springing to her feet.